


The Right Spot

by there_must_be_a_lock



Series: Hiding Spot [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bossy Sam Winchester, F/M, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:21:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21542155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/there_must_be_a_lock/pseuds/there_must_be_a_lock
Summary: “I want to watch you. Whatever you do when… when you’re making that sound.”
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader
Series: Hiding Spot [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552537
Comments: 7
Kudos: 95





	The Right Spot

I closed the door behind us and turned, hands suddenly shaking with nerves.

“Still okay?” Sam asked softly, and _that_ , right there, that was why I was so fucking head over heels for him, because after whispering things that had made my cheeks burn, he was standing there, hard as hell in his jeans, and just… checking on me. He was looking out for me, the same way he always did. 

I nodded.

I’d always sort of assumed he’d be _rough_ , based on a few offhand comments he’d made over the years. I expected him to kiss me, get his hands on me… maybe throw me onto the bed like he usually did in my fantasies.

Instead he sat down in my desk chair, slouched back with his legs spread wide so I could see the way his cock was straining against the seam of his jeans, and he just _looked_ at me, head to toes, down and up and down again. He was giving me this half-smile I’d never seen before, suggestive and confident and calm, and a shiver ran up my spine.

“Come here?” he asked.

I went to him, standing between his knees, close but not touching. He ran his hands over my hips, slowly, looking at me with an eyebrow raised until I nodded again, and then he was pulling my shirt over my head, tossing it to the side.

His fingers were so fucking gentle. I watched numbly, heart galloping in my ribs, as he tugged gently at buttons and zippers and clasps, delicate and careful, until I was standing in front of him wearing nothing but a plain cotton thong and a bright red blush. The room was warm, but I felt a chill go up my spine. I could feel my nipples starting to tingle, going taut, and goosebumps prickled down my arms. I felt unsteady on my feet.

His jaw clenched as he looked me over again, his fingers tight on my waist. His hands were so big that the span of them around my ribs made me feel small.

“I want to watch you. Whatever you do when… when you’re making that sound.”

“ _Oh_ ,” I said. “I don’t- um.”

I was too embarrassed to hold eye contact, suddenly, and I looked up at my ceiling and made a face.

“Hey, s’okay,” he whispered, and he pulled me closer. I had to lean down a little, with him sitting, and that made it easier, made me feel like I had some semblance of control here.

The first kiss was gentle, so much sweeter than I’d expected. He cupped my cheek carefully like I was something precious, and all my reservations melted away. _Everything_ melted away for a minute.

Sam kissed the corner of my mouth, my cheek, my temple, and then he nipped at my earlobe gently, making me giggle. When he spoke again, it was right against my ear, a low intimate whisper: “If it’s too much for me to ask, I’m sorry, I just… it’s the hottest thing in the _world_ , when I hear you. I’ve been trying to imagine for a while now, what you look like, and… I want to know if I’m right.”

His lips brushed the underside of my jaw, and I shivered.

“Okay,” I said. “Yeah, _fuck_ , Sam. _Yes_.”

“What would you do if I wasn’t here?” he asked, but his thumb was rubbing the hollow of my throat and his mouth dragged down the curve of my neck, and I couldn’t focus on what he was saying until he prompted me: “Do you use your fingers? Or…”

I hesitated. “Vibrator,” I confessed shakily. “But...”

“I want to see that,” he said. He kissed me one more time, slow and thorough. “Just… forget I’m here, for a little while.”

I giggled, because how the _fuck_ could I ever forget that, and his dimples deepened in a flicker of a smile. He sat back in the chair, hands on his thighs, eyes raking over me, and it felt strange turning my back to him and walking away, knowing that he was staring with that predatory intensity. I fought the urge to cover myself with my hands as I fumbled in my bedside drawer.

I expected a raised eyebrow, maybe, or some nervous crack about the size of it; men, in my experience, felt more than a little threatened by toys, although I figured Sam didn’t get threatened easily… but I definitely _wasn’t_ expecting the deep breath, the way his eyes went dark.

“You’ve seen one of these before?” I asked awkwardly, settling onto the bed.

He smiled, like the cat who got the fucking cream, and nodded slowly. “Something like it, anyway.”

Heat thudded low in my belly, sudden and sizzling.

How the fuck did he _do_ that? Sweet, kind Sam, and he was shooting me this _look_ , a curl of a smile that was so fucking dirty, so self-assured, that I felt hot all over.

I sat back, propped up on some pillows, getting comfortable, fidgeting until there was nothing to do but spread my legs, getting my feet flat on the mattress. I could hear the way he exhaled from across the room. I ran my fingers over myself through my underwear, stroking the damp cotton, rubbing gently.

“Take those off,” Sam said softly. There was this steely edge in his voice I’d never heard before. It was dark and delicious and unmistakeably an order, and fuck, apparently that was something my body really, _really_ liked. I couldn’t look at his face as I obeyed; I tilted my head back against the headboard, pulse pounding, as I kicked the fabric away clumsily.

I slid my hand between my legs again. I was _wet_. My brain might be overthinking this whole scenario, but my body was 110% on board. I let my legs fall open a little more, dragging my fingers through the slickness, circling my clit gently.

I found the courage to look at Sam and felt an instant, overwhelming throb of need. His eyes were locked on me, his mouth slack, and he was panting as he watched me. He had the heel of one hand pressed to his cock, the other white-knuckled on the edge of the chair, like he was barely holding back.

 _Fuck_.

I reached for the vibrator. That, at least, was familiar territory. I turned it on to pulse at the lowest setting, and just barely grazed my skin as I rubbed it up and down my lips. The little ripples of vibration made me sigh, and I closed my eyes, melting back against the pillows, relaxing into it before I turned it up a notch.

I almost did manage to forget Sam was there, for a few minutes. I was too busy teasing myself, feeling it build slowly. I spread my legs wider, digging my heels into the bed so I could tilt my hips up, finding the perfect angle. I dragged my free hand over my chest, palming my breasts and rolling my nipples, ran my fingernails lightly up my thigh, and _that_ … that was something I’d always imagined _Sam_ doing, with those big rough hands. I opened my eyes to look at him.

He’d gotten his jeans open, at some point. He was stroking himself, long slow strokes all the way down and twisting back up, squeezing at the top, the flushed head shiny and deep-red where it showed through the circle of his fist, and my hips jerked involuntarily because _fuck_ if that wasn’t the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

He licked his lips. It should’ve looked so cheesy and over-the-top, but on him it looked like porn. _He_ looked like porn.

“Tell me what you think about,” Sam rasped, chest heaving, those long fingers curling so perfectly around the hot, hard, flushed-dark length of him, and I _wanted_. God, I just -

“You,” I hissed. “I think about - _fuck_ , Sam, I can’t…”

Suddenly I wasn’t just teasing any more. I was pushing the head of the vibrator down right where I needed it, pushing my hips up to meet it, arching my back shamelessly. Sam muttered a curse. He was _right there,_ and I felt so dirty and desperate watching him, watching his hand move faster as he stared at me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what he was going to feel like stretching me open.

I was squirming as the buzzing friction hit harder, building in my core. My breath started to catch on every exhale as I panted, a pained little noise, _ah, ah, ah,_ and Sam moaned.

“That,” he gasped. “ _That_ , right there, I-“

I closed my eyes, trying to pull myself back, and begged, “Come _here_ already.”

He was moving before I got the last word out, stripping off his shirt, stepping out of his pants as he crossed the short distance between us, and I made myself turn the toy down as I watched him crawl up the bed. I wasn’t sure I could hold back even on the lowest setting, now, not for long, not with the way he was looking at me.

I wanted him on top of me, _inside_ me, but he settled next to me, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked me up and down. His hand hovered for a moment, an inch over my collarbone, like he still wasn’t sure he could touch.

“Please,” I whispered, and he didn’t waste time, once I’d given him permission; his fingers were rough as he twisted my nipple, leaned down to suck it into his mouth, and the scrape of teeth as he swirled his tongue made me cry out. I squirmed under the touch, flicked the button up a notch, and it felt like my entire body was vibrating, tensing up and quaking with it. He bit a trail up my chest, up my neck, until his teeth found the sensitive spot under my ear and I cursed, tension ratcheting even higher.

“Let me hear you,” he said, with that hot dark edge in his voice again, and he put his hand over mine and pressed the vibrator down against me, hard, inescapable, just barely on the good side of _too fucking much._

I arched up as I shuddered, overwhelmed, and my voice was wrecked and ragged as I moaned. There was wave after wave of pleasure clenching and flashing through me, and Sam didn’t let it stop; he held the vibrator in place until it was almost painful. 

When I really couldn’t take any more, I whined and shoved his hand away, fumbled with the button, tossing the thing to the side, still shivery with aftershocks. Before I could say anything, he was sliding on top of me gracefully, fitting perfectly between my sprawled-open legs. He kissed me, biting, bruising-hard, and I was too shaky to do anything but whimper against his lips.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he panted. “Can I…”

“ _Yeah_.”

He paused, for a second, positioned at my entrance, looking down at me with a softer smile, now, drawing out the moment of anticipation. I trembled for a moment, both of us holding our breath, before he started to thrust into me.

I made the most wrecked, wanton noise, and I would’ve been embarrassed if he hadn’t been making one of his own. He worked himself into me, inch by inch, rolling his hips and giving me time to adjust, but by the time he was fully buried in me I felt feverish, eyes rolling back, hands clawing at the sheets, my entire body throbbing with heat.

It felt like a live wire, an exposed nerve, when he brushed against my swollen clit. For a second I wasn’t sure if I could take it, so soon after the last orgasm; it was _Sam_ , I knew he’d stop immediately, wait if I needed, I just had to say the word... but _Christ_ , I’d wanted this for so fucking long.

Sam looked feral, the way he was baring his teeth, jaw clenched, wild and almost out of control. I dug my fingers into his biceps and leaned up to nip at the first bit of skin I could reach. His hips jerked forward, snapping into me viciously, so fucking _good_ that my vision blurred, and we both gasped.

The way he moved… he was just grinding into me, hot and hard and stretching me open in the best way, and _too much too soon_ turned quickly into _more, now, please._

When he hit the right spot I hissed, getting one arm over my head to brace against the headboard and cant my hips up for more. Sam made this smug, satisfied noise. He reached up to grab my wrist, pressing it back into the pillows, squeezing hard enough I knew I’d have bruises, and he drove into me, hitting that spot dead-on, over and over.

I was frantic, before long, choking back a sob with every thrust, but it wasn’t _enough_ ; after the electric-shock buzz of the vibrator, I didn’t think I’d be able to come again, but I could feel Sam holding back, waiting for me.

He slowed down enough to bite a bruise into the curve of my neck, hips circling in little figure-eights that, under normal circumstances, would’ve gotten me there _fast_.

“Want to feel you,” he whispered, with another nip to my earlobe.

“I _can’t_ ,” I groaned. “Still feels so fucking good, but-“

“Wanna bet?” he asked, and I caught a glimpse of a wicked smirk before he was pulling out, tugging me up to sit. My head spun when I was upright. I let Sam manhandle me, my brain practically shorting out when I noticed the way his biceps looked when he moved, until he was leaning back against the pillows. I was still figuring out how to move my shaky limbs when that fucking smirk was back.

“Not like that,” he murmured, and then he was grabbing me, lifting me, tugging at my bent knee, until I was straddling his lap with my back to him. I sighed, long and relieved, as I sank down onto him again.

And yeah, okay, that felt _good_ , the new angle, full in a way I’d never fucking felt before when he twisted up a little, rocking into me, but -

“I don’t think-“ I started.

He cut me off, voice like honey in my ear: “Trust me. Lean back.”

I did trust him. I trusted him more than just about anybody.

He was sitting up enough that I wasn’t doing a real back-bend when I lay back against his chest, but the position made it hard to move; my abs and my thighs were already shaking with the strain. Then Sam wrapped an arm around me and held me still, forearm to my chest, hand curving over my neck. He wasn’t putting any pressure there, wasn’t choking me, but the fact that he _could_ , that I was fucking powerless and trapped against his body… that made me clench around him, squeezing, feeling the burn of it radiate out and pulse in my core.

Sam groaned, and I could feel the reverberation of it through his chest.

“Not gonna last much longer, not if you keep doing that,” he mumbled, and I was about to protest when the sound cut me off.

Before I could process what was coming, he had the vibrator pressed to my clit, rumbling right where he was splitting me open, and with my knees trapped at his sides and my legs forced apart, I couldn’t squeeze them closed or flinch away. I couldn’t do _anything_. I couldn’t even form words, just let out a sound that had never escaped my lips before, a high-pitched keening moan, and Sam laughed breathlessly before turning the vibrator up higher.

It was sensory overload. My hands flew up to Sam’s forearm, where it was pressed like an iron band between my breasts, and I grabbed on for dear life, just trying to hold on to something. When I twisted, writhing, trying to sit up, Sam’s hand pressed into my throat and held me down, keeping me still, making me just fall back and _take it._ He was rocking his hips ever so slightly, fucking up into me in little pulsing movements that made me see stars. Everything was drawing up tight, too tight like I was going to _snap_ , I was shaking so hard I was going to shatter, and I was completely, utterly helpless in the face of it.

“Remember what I said?” Sam said, and I could hear the strain in his voice: “That I wanted to hear you scream?”

I wanted to say his name, but I couldn’t form words. I let out a twisted, anguished whine instead through gritted teeth, feeling pressure building under my skin, up my spine, through my belly, behind my fucking _eyeballs_ like they were about to pop out of my skull.

“I’ve got you,” Sam gasped.

The noise that came from my throat was barely human. I blacked out, I think, for a moment; I was paralyzed. It felt like my orgasm was _ripped_ out of me, like I’d been plugged into the electric grid and couldn’t break the current.

I was dimly aware of spasming around Sam, feeling the hot thick swell as he started to come, and he groaned low in his chest, jerking and twitching up into me. I could _feel_ it. I could feel the pulse of it, I was clenched so tight around him, and it set off a whole new wave of sharp bright lightning behind my squeezed-shut eyes.

It was so goddamn good, especially after the first _too fucking much_ , scary-urgent pulses of it started to fade. I kept shaking. Sam had ditched the vibrator, but he had his fingers on me, just resting there, the perfect amount of pressure for me to twitch up against as I rode it out.

“ _Fuck_ , Sam,” I sighed. “Fucking… what the fuck.”

He hummed his agreement, petting my sweaty skin absently. I was a dead weight on top of him, limbs wobbling and refusing to hold me up, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Even better than I imagined,” he said softly, and pressed his palm over my racing heart.

.


End file.
